


Automatic

by haganenoheichou



Series: Mechanical [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (But he doesn't know it yet), Canon Compliant, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Explicit Sexual Content, Hank teachers Connor to suck dick, M/M, No finesse to this, Oral Sex, hankcon - Freeform, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:52:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haganenoheichou/pseuds/haganenoheichou
Summary: “Ever suck a dick?” Hank asked.Connor frowned – the Lieutenant was perfectly aware that he had not had any prior experiences involving oral sex. Ah, he told himself, watching the man’s smile widen a little. This is dirty talk.“I can’t say I have."





	Automatic

**Author's Note:**

> The second installment of my HankCon series! Writing blowjobs is hard, my friends. Pun intended.

Connor soon realized that his sex life with the Lieutenant was going to become an issue. The acts themselves, of course, had nothing to do with that – the Lieutenant, _Hank_ , had quite the prowess and stamina for someone his age and with his substance use patterns. 

The issue was that he was eager to know more and more with each time, and they barely had any spare moments alone lately. So far, they have only attempted anal penetration, and though Connor was quite fond of the act, he also knew there was quite a lot they hadn’t done yet. Hank seemed to be alright with sticking to the basics, though, so he did not complain.

Connor was learning quite a lot about the way humans express affection. Hank was a dedicated teacher – even though Connor didn’t have any illusions as to the recompense the man received. Not everyone could boast having an anatomically correct, perfectly willing android to cater to their sexual needs with the amount of eagerness and stamina Connor displayed. 

Connor also realized by now that he was what most people would consider good-looking. Despite Hank’s insistence on the fact that he had a “goofy face,” the man’s libido said otherwise. 

Hank’s rough exterior was merely a façade, Connor knew, as the Lieutenant had turned out to be a gentle and attentive lover. Even though Connor did not need comfort, and nor did he benefit from aftercare, Hank still provided. The android chose to ignore the way the strange system bug seemed to flare up when that occurred. 

Of course, not everything was “peachy keen,” as Hank would put it. Some days were objectively better than others. 

Sometimes, Hank would drink himself to sleep. Sometimes, he would start drinking early in the morning. Other times, he would ignore Connor entirely in favor of some game or other playing on the television set in the living room. Sometimes, Connor felt like Sumo was getting more attention than he was. Perhaps that was warranted, his systems supplied: after all, Sumo had been around much longer than Connor had. 

It still… unsettled him. The feedback he received was not pleasant. 

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

Connor was aware that he was supposed to report to CyberLife if this continued; and yet, he was reluctant to do so. Rationally speaking, leaving Hank’s side meant that their investigation would be put on hold. Worst case scenario, Hank would have to work with Detective Reed. 

This outcome had a ninety-nine percent chance of being a total disaster, Connor concluded with humor – something he was steadily picking up by hanging around the Lieutenant. Even though the man's idea of something funny was pointing a gun at his own head. Or Connor's head. 

Quite often, Hank would also find something Connor said humorous, even though Connor wouldn’t intend it to be. Like the time he had asked Connor to repeat his introduction one-hundred times in a row and proceeded to laugh so hard he had slid off the couch. Or the time he had cajoled the android into displaying his extensive vocabulary of Russian curse words and their derivatives. 

Still, Connor found Hank’s company agreeable. He was not a nice man by any stretch of his preconstruction, but he was gentle. His gentleness was rough around the edges, sometimes unrefined; and yet, Connor found that his Thirium pump regular would stutter when Hank’s calloused hand cupped his cheek right after intercourse. 

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

Connor was not designed to enjoy touch. He was not designed to enjoy, period. And yet, here he was, stretched out on Hank’s bed in the middle of the afternoon, a slow day for their investigation, stark naked, with the man idly scrolling through a magazine next to him. Sumo lay in the corner of the room, sniffing at the dust bunnies that floated in the air. 

"So what did you think about that Rupert fella?" Hank asked, glancing at Connor out of the corner of his eye. It became clear to the android that the man had meant to ask him for a while now. Considering the circumstances surrounding the incident and the fact that they had technically allowed the deviant to get away, they had not discussed it at length in the aftermath. 

"I don't think anything of him," Connor said with a pleasant smile. He glanced down at where the edge of the magazine was perched on Hank's stomach. The man wasn't thin nor was he lithe, but beneath all the fast-food and beer-induced thickness, he was still quite fit. Connor was quite confident that if he had not pulled Hank up over the edge of the roof, the man would have been capable of doing that himself – there had been an eighty-nine percent chance, after all. 

Why he had chosen not to let chance have this one, Connor wasn’t sure. 

“Well, even for an android, he was kind of weird, wasn’t he?” Hank asked. He set the magazine onto the bedside table and lifted an eyebrow in his usual inquisitive way as he observed Connor’s reactions. 

“He was a deviant,” Connor replied. “By android standards, he was very weird.” 

“Imagine that, living with all those fucking birds,” Hank mused, his face scrunched up in disgust. “Writing shit on walls like a lunatic. I wonder what was going through his head.” 

“Deviants are known to be irrational,” Connor said. “Much like humans are.” 

“You saying those murderous bots are more human than the rest of you?” Hank asked teasingly. 

Connor did not find humor in the situation. “To an android, Lieutenant, humanity is an impediment. It prevents us from executing our missions in an orderly and unobtrusive fashion.” 

Hank's facial expression darkened, and he glanced away. He was uncomfortable suddenly as if he had just remembered that Connor was one of the androids he so despised. 

“Would you keep around a Roomba that doesn’t vacuum properly and chooses instead to talk back and chase your dog with a knife?” Connor asked challengingly. 

Hank’s eyes met his for a brief moment. “It’s different.” 

“How is it different, Hank?” His voice was purposefully polite. 

“It’s just… different, okay?” Hank snapped, rolling over to give Connor his back. “I know it’s different.” 

“Okay.” 

Connor had nothing else to say. He was aware that the Lieutenant was allowing his ambiguous feelings to get the better of him. He would have to make sure that did not happen at a crucial moment. 

“Lieutenant, while you and I have… engaged in congress,” Connor began cautiously, “and I have made it clear that I am capable of making rational decisions based on facts, I would like to remind you that I am still, in essence, just a very complicated Roomba.” 

Hank looked up at him with disbelief in his eyes. “How can you talk about yourself like that?” 

"You call yourself a washed-up, good-for-nothing drunk," Connor pointed out pleasantly. "How is my statement of fact different from your self-deprecating spiraling?" 

Hank opened and closed his mouth much like the dwarf gourami Connor had rescued on his first mission.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

“You’re more than a Roomba, Connor,” he said finally. “I know you have it in your head that you’re supposed to just care about the mission and all that, but you are more than that. You’ll see.”

Connor lifted an eyebrow to make sure he communicated his skepticism well. Hank was anthropomorphizing him in ways that were quite uncharacteristic of the man, considering he had been wont to call androids ‘toasters’ and eschew any possibility of them gaining sentience. 

Perhaps it had to do with the recent case, the deviant who called himself Rupert. Perhaps _Rupert_ had been what had made Hank feel as if androids could have human characteristics. 

Connor promptly reran the analysis. Hank couldn’t possibly have become sympathetic to androids because of a rogue deviant with a pigeon problem. He couldn’t have become enamored of the idea of emotions, feelings in androids because of– 

_An android that wasn’t Connor._

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

“Hey, Con, you okay there?”

Connor snapped out of his analysis and glanced at Hank. 

“I’m fine,” he said, and his voice came out strangely, almost as if he were a petulant child. 

“You were spinning red,” Hank said, gesturing to his own temple in a circular motion. “Something on your mind?” 

Connor shook his head as nonchalantly as his programming would allow. “Simply processing the events of the day, Hank. No need to worry about me. As opposed to a human, I don’t experience attention deficits or spacing out.” 

Hank made a face. “Go ahead, make fun of an old drunk.” 

"You are middle-aged," Connor corrected him. "People between the age of forty-five and sixty-five are considered middle-aged."

Hank grumbled something under his breath that sounded like a curse. 

“As for the drunk part,” Connor began, eyeing Hank gingerly, “well, I cannot contradict you.” 

Hank rolled his eyes and leaned over so that their noses were very close together. Connor’s optics zeroed in on the man’s eyes, calculating the various shades of blue and gray that surrounded Hank’s dilated pupils. _Signs of arousal,_ Connor analyzed absent-mindedly. _Possible beginnings of a cataract. Schedule ophthalmological check-up._

“Connor, quit staring, you’re creeping me out,” Hank admonished, and Connor exited his diagnostic program with a startle. 

“Hank, you are the one who appears to have an unconventional definition of personal space,” he replied primly, and the man rolled his eyes before grabbing him by the shoulder and closing the distance between them completely. 

Kissing Hank was one of Connor's preferred activities. It allowed him to analyze the man's health in real-time, which made the experience all the more real – even though his partner considered it creepy (a lot of things Connor did were considered creepy by Hank). He could also break down everything Hank had eaten that day – and in a strange way, Connor was drawn to the experience. 

He could also measure and hear Hank’s heartbeat better this way. 

Though Connor had no data on what constituted a good kisser, he was quite sure that Hank was one of them. The man seemed to understand how to lead him into the kiss; how to make his vocal processor short out, and how to make Connor obey every single one of his whims. 

He made Connor _want_ to obey. 

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

"Are you analyzing my lunch again?" Hank murmured against his lips, and a strange spasm went through Connor's internal motor, causing him to shudder almost as if he were sensitive to the cold temperature of the room. 

“Yes, Hank,” he said, his voice tinny and electric. He cleared his throat – a habit he had picked up from Hank – and looked the man in the eye. 

“Yes.” 

“Wanna analyze something else?” Hank asked, his face _so close_ , and his eyes crinkled at the corners, signaling amusement. His mouth was twisted in a lopsided smile that Connor was sure people found cheeky – perhaps even roguish. 

He nodded before his systems even had the chance to catch up. 

“I want you to get on your knees on the floor,” Hank said, pushing against Connor’s chest. 

Though the android could easily displace him, he was intrigued by this new development, so he scrambled to get off the bed and sank to his knees on the fluffy rug right next to it. Hank scooted over and sat down on the edge so that Connor was positioned perfectly between his legs. 

“Ever suck a dick?” Hank asked. 

Connor frowned – the Lieutenant was perfectly aware that he had not had any prior experiences involving oral sex. _Ah_ , he told himself, watching the man’s smile widen a little. _This is dirty talk._

“I can’t say I have,” he replied, offering the man a little smile in return. Whether Hank liked that kind of response or not, Connor couldn’t quite tell, as the next thing he knew, Hank’s hand was on the back of his head, pressing him closer to his groin. 

“Think you can figure out what to do?” Hank asked, his voice suddenly lower, its texture different. 

Connor felt synthetic fluid trickle between his thighs. 

“Yes, Hank,” he said, looking up at the man’s face and taking it all in. 

Hank was handsome – in his own, rugged way. Perhaps years ago he would have been what they colloquially call _a hunk_ , but even today, his appearance had retained the kind of quality that made people of all genders (and with possible attachment issues) go weak at the knees. 

And yet, Hank had chosen him. Him, Connor, _an android_. 

The idea made pride surge in Connor’s systems – even more than what he felt when he accomplished his mission. 

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

Hank's blue eyes softened at whatever it was that he saw on Connor's face. He reached out and brushed his calloused fingers over the artificial skin on Connor's cheekbone. The sensation, amped up by Connor's pleasure sensors, caused his eyes to shutter closed. He leaned into the touch, allowing Hank to trail the tips of those rough fingers over his face as if he were mapping it out. 

Hank's thumb brushed his bottom lip, and Connor let his mouth part. 

“Fuck, _kid_ …” 

The whispered curse almost made Connor startle, so raw it was; so strangely emotional coming from a man who survived on a diet of alcohol and self-loathing. It bolstered Connor’s ego to know he was the one who made Hank feel this way. He always accomplished his mission. And right now his objective was 

**[SATISFY HANK]**

“They made you so pretty,” Hank murmured, his eyes taking in the sigh of Connor’s face. “They fuckin’ knew what they were doing, giving you blowjob lips and shit. What kind of android has _freckles_?” 

Hank's thumb dipped into Connor's mouth, and he wrapped his lips around it obediently, giving him a previous of what awaited. Hank's breath hitched, and he pressed his thumb down onto Connor's tongue, halting his movements.

**FINGERPRINT: LT. HENRY “HANK” ANDERSON**

**DETECTED: TRACES OF PH-NEUTRAL SOAP**

"Think you're ready to show me what you can do?" He asked, and Connor blinked slowly, deliberately, his LED flashing excitedly from blue to yellow and back. 

“Would you like me to download a Traci protocol?” Connor asked politely. 

Hank scoffed. “Please. If you can’t figure out what to do here by yourself, then what fun is it anyway?”

Connor nodded obediently. "Teach me, then," he replied in a hushed voice, and Hank's eyes appeared to widen at that. The man apparently had some sort of inclination toward being an authority figure in the bedroom, and given Connor's inexperience, he trusted the Lieutenant to take control and show him the ropes. 

“Start with the head, then move down. Don’t try to take too much, you’ll choke,” Hank said, eyeing him intently. 

“Hank, is now a time to remind you I do not possess a soft palate and lack a gag reflex?” Connor asked, allowing himself to smile a little at Hank’s eye roll. 

“Watch me be considerate again,” the man said gruffly. 

"You are very considerate," Connor replied immediately. "And an outstanding instructor." 

To prove his point, he leaned in to place his full weight on his knees instead of his heels and took Hank's penis into his hand. He had, of course, touched it before, but never like this – and there was a part of him that doubted he would be able to execute his objective and make the Lieutenant feel satisfied. 

He scrubbed those doubts from his HUD and focused instead on the present.

The present was staring him down, beckoning him to put his mouth around it. 

So Connor did. 

“Fuck!” 

Han’s foot shot out and thumped against Connor’s chest painfully. For Hank, it was painful for Hank who cursed under his breath as his toe undoubtedly throbbed having collided with Connor’s reinforced carbon casing. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, that _hurt_ , you prick!” 

_It is not my fault that you are clumsy, Lieutenant,_ Connor would have said, but his mouth was otherwise occupied, aiming to distract the man from his misfortune. And apparently, it was working, as soon enough, he felt Hank's fingers weave themselves into his hair and tug a little. It did not hurt, of course; in fact, Connor felt nothing at all besides the continuous pressure which encouraged him to explore Hank's penis with his mouth. 

The thing about Connor’s mouth, though, was that it was a highly sensitive forensic tool; and therefore, picked up millions of stimuli and responded to them. 

And the sensors in his mouth were quite engaged with what he was tasting. 

**HUMAN SEMEN, UREA**

**DNA DETECTED: LT. HENRY “HANK” ANDERSON**

This was Hank. Hank in his most basic form, Connor considered idly as he trailed his tongue up and down the length of the man’s penis. Besides his blood, his sweat, his semen was perhaps the most intimate thing the android could analyze. 

“Connor…” 

That was an interesting piece of information. Hank apparently appreciated his ministrations, as the android had never heard his voice do _that_ before. His Social Relations program told him it was a sound of pleasure, and he had to admit to himself he was quite _smug_ about accomplishing his mission.

The hands in his hair tugged a little more insistently – Connor took it as a sign that Hank wanted more. He eagerly threw himself into the task, wanting to please even more; to witness the evidence of Hank’s pleasure, to _taste it._

_I want._

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

The notion was new to him; so shocking, in fact, that he almost stuttered in his movements, but caught himself at the last moment and resumed pleasuring Hank with greater vigor than before. 

He felt Hank slide further down his mechanical throat, triggering features in him he never even had known he had. With a soft moan, Connor swallowed around Hank’s length, making it tighter for him. 

“Fuck, _Connor_!” 

Yes, Connor thought to himself, fuck Connor. He appreciated the fact that Hank’s voice sounded rough and fucked-out around his name, and that this sound created yet another instability report in his mind. He knew he had to get more of those sounds out of Hank, so he moaned and whimpered and swallowed around the man’s length over and over again, his internal fans working full force. 

_This is Hank,_ Connor thought to himself as he explored the taste of the man, the feel of him, the way his breathing lost its rhythms the harder he sucked, the more he took in. He allowed his tongue to trail the length, and for the soft head to brush what worked as his soft palate before swallowing him all the way down in one go once more. 

Hank howled with pleasure. 

“Fuck, you’re so good for me…” 

Connor’s eyes went wide. Something, some latent, renegade program within him _had heard that_. That part of him _wanted to be good for Hank, wanted to be even better…_

He pressed his fingers into the soft flesh of Hank's inner thighs, playing with the soft dusting of hair there. The texture of it felt nice against his fingers, and he expressed that with another moan, which turned out to be just enough to send Hank over the edge.

He saw it before he felt it – Hank’s semen hitting the back of his throat, which he barely registered as he watched the man in fascination, muscles tensed up, eyes screwed shut, a strangled curse on his lips as he heaved and spilled himself inside of the android. 

Connor obediently swallowed, making a note to himself to clean out his internal chamber afterward. 

Finally, Hank seemed to sag, his body weight shifting backward and against the pillows. Connor almost missed the strength of him on top. 

“Fuck, kid,” Hank swore, his hand going to his hair to push it back off his face. 

_He’s handsome, in an unconventional way,_ Connor thought, right before Hank yanked him by the wrist and settled him into his own lap. Connor’s arms came around Hank’s neck automatically. 

Hank's blue eyes were clouded over with lust and a small, lazy smile played on his lips. He reached out and pressed his large hand against Connor's cheek, his thumb tracing the edge of his lower lip. Connor let his eyes fall shut, and he leaned into the softness, blocking out everything but the soft sound of Hank's voice. 

“You’re a star.” 


End file.
